Waiting and Watching

Mothers spent a lot of time watching and waiting. An instance that comes to mind this afternoon is of an evening when I sat outside in a cold car waiting for my son Paul to come out of the warm church building so that we could go home. Well, the car wasn’t actually cold since I had the heater turned on. It was the outside that was frigid, and the longer I sat there watching him and his friends having a super time inside of the warm, lighted building, the more annoyed I became.

I had things to do! There were unwashed dishes in the sink, clothes to iron, and classes to prepare for! When in the world was he ever going to come out?! Dressed in the sweat pants I’d earlier jogged in, I didn’t feel comfortable going inside to get him, especially since I’d exchanged my Nikes for some fluffy bedroom shoes. I decided to call my mother and whine a little bit. Surely she’d commiserate with my plight. Wrong! A wise woman, she listened to my complaint and simply said, “He’s worth waiting for.” I felt as though I’d been slapped and hugged at the same time! She was absolutely right. He was well worth waiting for, and he was inside of a church building for crying out loud (a phrase she might have added).

Part of what mothers are supposed to do is watch and wait. And yet what I did is minimal when compared to the vigil of a woman I just learned about this week. Her name was Rizpah, and you can read all about her in II Samuel 21:2-14. Although she’s not a major player like some of the other Old Testament mothers, her story is certainly one worth telling.

A concubine of Saul, Rizpah had two sons named Armoni and Mephibosheth. At some point before his death, Saul had ordered the slaying of some Gibeonites, and now these people were demanding retribution. King David was anxious to appease them because he felt it would end a three-year famine. Unfortunately, the Gibeonites didn’t want money; they wanted blood, the blood of seven of Saul’s descendents. Two of these young men were the sons of Rizpah, and the other five were sons of Michal, Saul’s daughter.

David handed these seven over to the Gibeonites to be slain as human sacrifices. After the slaying, their bodies were not buried as was the custom of the day, but were left to the elements. Rizpah knew she had to take a stand not only to protect their bodies from birds and beasts but also to influence David to bury them. Bold and faithful, she basically took sackcloth, spread it on a rock, and sat there keeping watch from the beginning of barley season until nearly six months later, from April to October. Eventually, King David heard of her tenacious loyalty and buried what was left of the seven bodies. Only then did Rizpah leave the rock.

Compare Rizpah’s wait to mine. She sat on a rock and braved the elements in all sorts of weather for SIX MONTHS. What did she eat? Did friends come and visit her and offer social support? Did she bathe, change her clothes, sleep? I waited 20 minutes in the comfort of my car while I watched my very alive son enjoy his friends inside of a warm building. Rizpah’s sons were dead. I called my mother; Rizpah didn’t call anyone. The very thought of her using a cell phone is weird. As far as we know, she was totally alone.

I’m not sure what we’re supposed to get from the story, but I know it’s in the scriptures for a reason. I’m thinking that although it isn’t always easy, mothers have to take a stand. We have to watch and wait and shoo away all the vultures that might attack our children, and we need to do it by night and by day.

Rizpah loved her children with a fierce love, and her behavior showed valor and loyalty. She was a person of no power, a concubine, and yet her actions moved a king to do the right thing and bury the remains of the bodies. Not coincidentally, after the burial, the rains came.

What are some applications of this story to your life today?